


The Two of Us

by TheHuntress25



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drama & Romance, F/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:37:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7081363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuntress25/pseuds/TheHuntress25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George Weasley is faced with the consequences of keeping his love for Angelina Johnson a secret for five years as the Yule Ball approaches. Fred takes matters into his own hands by asking Angelina first, forcing him to question everything. What if Fred truly loves Angelina? What would happen if Angelina loved him back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Two of Us

“Are you still mad at me?” George Weasley glanced over his shoulder to see his brother regarding him with a careless grin, his eyes twinkling. The face was identical to his own but there was a reckless air about him that he had always envied but could never duplicate, “George, it's a really stupid idea to be out in the cold moping around like this. Need a hug?” Fred teased with an exaggerated pout that would have normally made him laugh. The playful look in his brother's face faded when it became clear that George had no intention of laughing and his twin considered him thoughtfully, his brown eyes running over him as if he were mildly perplexed.

 

“You can't stay mad at me forever.” His brother said firmly, grimacing slightly at the challenging stare that he received, George could be incredibly stubborn and they both knew that he was angry enough to try. Hogwarts was in the harsh grip of a fierce winter, the grounds covered in thick piles of snow, frost and enough ice to make him curse himself for standing out here in the first place like some kind of tragic hero.

 

George remained ominously silent and focused his attention on the surface of the Black Lake, amused to see the giant squid doing a few laps. The sight oddly calmed the anger that was boiling in his heart and he turned to see that Fred was watching him with a trace of worry, “I haven't wanted to talk to you because I'm still pretty pissed but it's not like it matters.”

 

Fred frowned slightly and his red hair seemed to stand on end, Alicia had made a poor attempt to cut it the other day and had ended up making him look like a mischievous porcupine. His brother had liked it so much that he had given her permission to cut his hair whenever she liked.

 

“Fred, how long are you going to stand there gawking at me? You hate the cold.” George demanded as his brother simply stared at him. Fred wasn't very fond of the weather at the moment but he enjoyed winter and all the fun memories it brought. The Burrow was one of the most beautiful places during this time of the year but his brothers had always thought he was mental for spending most of his time outside.

 

“I'll stand out here all day if I have to.” Fred replied.

 

George scoffed. “Don't be a twit,”

 

Fred sneezed loudly and made a great show out of securing his maroon scarf around his neck until the garment nearly concealed his entire face. “I couldn't find you in our usual places so I figured that there was something wrong and wanted to see if you were all right.” He most likely heard from Lee that he had decided to get some fresh air, their friend had been covertly watching him for the past few days like a hawk. George inwardly groaned, he had the feeling that Lee had concocted some kind of crazy story that involved him pitching himself into the Lake.

 

 _Dammit Lee,_ George thought grumpily.

 

Fred seemed to read his mind and his voice held a sharp warning, “I know Lee is a drama queen but he said you looked upset, _I'm_ the one you're really mad at so don't get all pissy with him.” He remarked flatly, “I thought that I'd at least come out and save your sorry arse.” His eyes ran over him critically and one red brow quirked, “not sure if I should have bothered since you're _determined_ to freeze to death out here.”

 

“Bugger off, Fred.” George snapped.

 

Fred gave a heavy sigh. “Why are you such a brat?”

 

George shot him a dark glance. “Why are you such a prick?”

 

“Genetics,” Fred replied with a shrug.

 

“What do you _want_?” George asked him, annoyed.

 

Fred glanced around warily as if he expected some woodland nymph to be spying on the pair of them and George had a peculiar image of Alicia and Katie. The two girls had been rather cool towards him these past few days but he wouldn't be surprised to see them hovering around, “George, how long are you going to walk around feeling sorry for yourself?” his brother demanded impatiently. He shifted a little in the snow before continuing, “this isn't even that big of a deal. I don't think you really care that you're hurting Angelina's feelings as much as everyone else's.”

 

The sound of that precious name caused an immediate reaction through George's entire body and his heart began to pound. He was confronted with a fierce longing that went too deep for anyone else to understand, “This is between the two of us, it has nothing at all to do with her but I would rather you stop being such a fucking git about everything and at least _talk_ to her.” Fred finished, exasperated.

 

George felt a flare of anger at his brother's accusation but he forced himself to remain silent, he didn't dare confess how much he loved Angelina right now. The thought of hurting her was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach and he gave a baffled laugh, “Of course this isn't that big of a deal to _you_ , Fred.” There was something in his tone that caused his brother's face to darken and he knew that their friends would have found this rising argument stunning.

 

The two of them rarely fought about anything but they _weren't_ two faces of the same coin, they weren't sewn together and there were certain things that even George couldn't tolerate. “There are a lot of girls who would have gone to this stupid dance with you but you just _had_ to ask her.” He couldn't even be excited about the upcoming tasks in the Triwizard Tournament because of this, “why did you have to ask Angelina when you knew how much I....” his voice caught unbearably in his throat but he didn't need to force the words out.

 

“Because you wouldn't.” Fred replied quietly.

 

George scowled. “You don't know that.”

 

Fred's brown eyes were sympathetic. “I know you better than that.”

 

George swallowed roughly and he inhaled a painful amount of winter air before releasing it as if all the energy were leaving his body. The anger and jealousy that was burning in his system was only equal to his own shame and cowardice, “That doesn't mean anything.” Angelina meant the world to him and his brother knew that more than anyone, Fred was usually the one teasing him the most about how close he was to her. “I promised her once that I'd take her to a dance and was going to but she was dating some bloke when we came back and it wouldn't have been right.”

 

“What are you going to do when Angie does start dating seriously, George?” Fred demanded and it was clear that he had already prepared himself for the moping that would ensue. He seemed to be in a sour mood today but George sensed that he was merely uncomfortable with having this sort of conversation with him, “Angelina is the sort of girl that a lot of blokes would go _crazy_ for, I've noticed the way they look at her too.” Fred pointed out wryly, “she's beautiful, smart and can pound someone in the ground on the Quidditch field.”

 

George stubbornly refused to answer, he had already been miserable enough when he had learned that Angelina was dating someone this past summer. She had finally branched away from him and seeing her with someone else had been a complete nightmare. “Why does that matter? Angie has never dated much and it's not right of me to ask about her personal business but I was going to ask her to the Yule Ball but you ruined everything.” He accused.

 

The silence that fell over them could have shamed a cemetery and George was sickeningly aware of his jealousy fading by slow degrees. He had tried to push the feelings down but in the process he had only distanced himself from Angelina, who was the last person that he had ever wanted to hurt and he had a horrible image of her turning her back on him for good. Lee and their friends had tried to cover up the awkwardness hovering over the three of them but George hadn't been in the mood to take their jokes or pretend that it didn't hurt, which had caused him to snarl at anyone who dared to try and bring him out of his nasty mood.

 

Fred's sharp voice was like a sudden crack of lightning. “ _I_ ruined everything?”

 

“That's right, you ruined everything!” George snapped back.

 

Fred's temper, which was never under much control, seemed to snap into shreds of confetti and he had a feeling that the argument was reaching its boiling point. “You stupid, bloody— _you_ ruined everything when you decided to sit on your arse for the past five years!” he stomped over, shoving roughly at his shoulder. “If you had the nerve to stay with her this entire time then you should have had the _courage_ to let her know how you felt!”

 

“Don't put your hands on me,” George warned furiously.

 

Fred pushed him again, harder this time. “Yeah? Gonna mope about that too?”

 

“ _Don't touch me_.” George snarled.

 

Fred shoved him so hard that he nearly lost his footing. “Or?”

 

George's anger was about to shatter and he didn't appreciate the mocking smile on his brother's face, it was like he were unintentionally laughing at himself. “Fred, I told you not to put your hands on me and I meant it!” his voice had risen to a worrying pitch as he shoved Fred away with enough force to make him stumble. Wands were drawn but even through the thick layer of fury that was smothering them, he didn't want to fight, “why do you _always_ treat everything like a game?” he snapped, more puzzled than angry.

 

Fred merely shrugged but his eyes were flinty with determination. “Why haven't you asked Angie to go out with you?” he countered.

 

“I've been friends with her for five years, it's not about me just keeping my feelings a secret and I care about her too much to ruin our friendship.” George answered, “you have no idea what's going through my head whenever I see her with someone else, when she's not with me.” His true feelings had been kept buried for so long that he didn't even have the bravery to face them. Fred may tease him but she meant more to him than anything and he would never risk losing her.

 

Fred stared at him with mounting disbelief and they watched one another like two wary weasels before his brother roared with laughter. His wand was tossed back and forth between his hands like a priceless play on words, “Georgie, why are you so goddamned moody? You're making yourself out to be some tragic martyr.” He rolled his eyes, “it's just like I've always said, you just _love_ having Angelina all to yourself like a spoiled brat.”

 

An ugly blush burned George's cheeks and he had never disliked his brother so much in one moment but his voice came out in a hiss. “I'm not a spoiled brat if I just want her to myself.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them and Fred's brows raised knowingly, “I don't expect you to understand how I feel.”

 

“I'm your brother, your _twin_.” Fred emphasized with unnecessary slowness, “I know you better than anyone whether you're willing to admit it or not and I might not be that close to Angelina but you two depend on one another too much.”

 

This was certainly something that he had never heard being applied to Angelina before and he tensed with offense. George opened his mouth to say something but Fred held up a hand to stop him and went on to say with a faint frown, “Angie's a tough girl but it's so obvious that she wouldn't make it without you breathing down her neck all the damn time.” His brother remarked with distaste. “She's not as strong as everyone makes her out to be.”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to—”

 

Fred twirled his wand lazily in his hand. “You two are a wreck without each other,”

 

George choked out a laugh. “There's nothing wrong with that,”

 

“There is if neither of you can function properly without the other,” Fred disagreed, leery.

 

That couldn't possibly be true. “I need her,”

 

“You need her so much that you'll hate every bloke that asks her out?” Fred asked, brows raised.

 

“Of course not—”

 

“Do you expect to be clutching her robes forever?” Fred demanded curtly.

 

George sent him a scathing glare for the rude question and was very tempted to hex him but the action would make him feel disgusting. He lowered his wand, “Is that really how you see our relationship? I care about Angie more than...more than I've ever cared about anyone.” It stung to think that his brother thought he was so weak but Fred merely held his stare until the hurt melted away. “Angelina's not just something that I clutch to, I rely on her so much because she makes me _happy_.”

 

“Then why haven't you done anything about it?” Fred demanded, baffled.

 

George didn't want to say anything more but there was a part of him that was somewhat amused by the indignant anger coming off of his brother. “I haven't asked her to be with me because I know that I'm not ready to face whoever I'll end up being afterward.” Fred reeled at the words and stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “Maybe that's just being weak but you wouldn't really understand when you don't even love her the way I do, it's none of your business what I don't say.”

 

Fred tilted his head curiously but it was unclear what he was thinking. “What if I did?”

 

“What?” George spluttered, caught off guard.

 

A taunting smile flashed over his brother's face. “What if I do love her the same way?”

 

“You _don't_ ,” George insisted hotly.

 

Fred raised his hands in a placating gesture. “How can you be so sure?”

 

“You're such a _fucking_ prat,” George hissed, overwhelmed.

 

Fred brushed the insult away with a patient smile. “So, what would you do if I loved her too?”

 

George wanted to tell him that he didn't give a damn, that it wouldn't matter to him in the slightest if it were true but he would be lying. It would tear him up until there was nothing left and yet, he wouldn't have any right to deny his brother a chance. He couldn't be so selfish, “I wouldn't stand in your way but I know how _you_ are when it comes to girls.” Fred's easy smile slipped at his smug tone. “We both know that you've never been serious about anyone.”

 

Fred's face darkened with genuine anger. “You can wipe that dumb grin off your face,”

 

George's grin only widened. “Gonna mope about it if I don't, Freddie?”

 

“No, I'll just make sure to treat Angelina better.” Fred responded coolly.

 

George's temper snapped and he punched him with brutal force. “Son of a—”

 

“— _bitch_!” Fred finished angrily, reacting swiftly.

 

Blood exploded in George's mouth and he staggered back from the force of the blow, staring at his twin in a mixture of shock and revulsion. What the hell had gotten into them? He had never struck Fred in his life and the reality of it was making his head spin, “I...I don't know what came over me.” His voice was trembling. Fred's eyes were wide with surprised hurt and he didn't seem to notice the thin trail of blood dripping from his split lip, “are you okay? I'll fix it for you,” he took a step forward but was chilled to the bone at the dark look he received.

 

Fred wiped his bloody mouth roughly on his coat sleeve but his lip was already beginning to swell, the wound looking uglier than he felt. “I don't know why I did that but I'm so sorry.” George said earnestly and he nearly gagged on the blood that coated his tongue, some tiny part of him rejoicing in the fact that he had experienced some form of revenge.

 

It was a terrifying thing to feel, this joy....

 

“You're not sorry, don't fucking kid yourself.” Fred snarled venomously.

 

George flinched visibly. “I am...”

 

 _Not_. His mind whispered.

 

Fred sent him a disgusted glare as he began to storm away. “Piss off, George.”

 

The flash of his red hair was more brilliant than a sunrise but George could feel his anger slashing into his chest like vicious curse. What had he done? He had let his own emotions drive him to this point and he was so stunned by how much his life could sink beneath his feet that he didn't immediately feel the tear that rolled down his cheek.

 

“I can't even pretend that I'm sorry.” George muttered thickly. The truth made him feel ill and his breath caught painfully in his lungs until his entire body felt flooded with nothing, “I'm not sorry.” His voice was so low that it was carried off by a chilly breeze like a ghost. The jealousy and rage had gotten the best of him and he realized that his reaction had been the trigger of some other ingrained fear that he had never even thought he would feel.

 

_What if I do love her the same way?_

 

George bit back a curse as he started towards the castle with his head bent towards the ground, tracing his brother's footprints. Fred loving Angelina wasn't truly bothering him, the _real_ problem that nagged at his heart was the possibility that after the Yule Ball, Angelina would love him back.

 

~*~

 

“George, where have you been all day?” Angelina asked worriedly several minutes later as he stumbled into the common room like a shamefaced fool. George's heart twisted at the sight of her and he avoided the pull of her dark brown eyes as the portrait hole shut behind him, wondering how his luck could be so terrible. The common room was noisier than usual and he saw large clusters of students huddled in groups, talking loudly about what the next task in the tournament would be and what Harry's chances were.

 

“Nowhere,” George mumbled.

 

Angelina stared up at him doubtfully before reaching out to help unwind the stiff scarf from around his throat. The brief brush of her skin against his made a flush creep along his neck, “I was going to come look for you but it has to be freezing out, you look like _death_.” The girl said with a weak smile, he had been avoiding her for days but it didn't surprise him that she was mature enough to put it aside when all he wanted to do was run away.

 

“I'm all right,” George reassured uncomfortably.

 

Angelina hesitated before giving a thankful nod and he saw that her eyes were glistening in a way that made him feel like he had physically hurt her. George had been unable to even look at her as images of her with his brother swarmed his mind but he felt terrible for what he had put her through, it wasn't fair to her at all. She had attempted to talk to him and understand but he had only turned her away, making excuses until she had stopped altogether, “I'm...I'm really glad. I was thinking that maybe the two of us could find somewhere to talk if you're up for it?”

 

George felt swamped with guilt. “I don't really feel like talking right now,”

 

“Oh, uhm...do you have other plans?” Angelina asked, barely hiding her hurt.

 

“No, can we chat tomorrow night?” George offered, wincing as he smiled.

 

Angelina brushed her fingertip over his throbbing lip. “ _Merlin_ , what happened?”

 

George nearly melted at her touch, pushing her hand gently away as he became aware of too many eyes glancing curiously in their direction. Angelina had a subtle radiance about her that could be distracting at times but he thought that his battered appearance was cause for most of the stares, “It's nothing.” He attempted to head towards the dorms but she blocked his path. Dread coiled nastily in his stomach and his body began to freeze over despite the heady warmth in the room, “I just got into a little fight earlier, nothing major.”

 

Angelina's eyes widened in alarm. “What _kind_ of fight?”

 

George hastily explained with an airy wave. “You know how it is with these Slytherins lately.” The lie made him feel like banging his head against the wall but she said nothing, “a big group of them were handing out those dumb badges that Malfoy and his friends made.” He _had_ seen Draco Malfoy on his way past the Great Hall but the git had been too busy ogling some girl with violet eyes to notice, “I decided to get in the way but got hit with a jinx.”

 

A troubled expression flashed over Angelina's face. “Georgie, are you sure you're okay?”

 

“I'm _fine_ ,” George lied, hating how easy it was.

 

“Why won't you talk to me?” Angelina asked, her voice a low murmur.

 

The pain in her voice was almost enough to make George's entire world crumble but his blistering fight with Fred swam through his mind with disturbing quickness. Angelina's lips parted for a second before she concentrated on folding his scarf nervously, fingers digging restlessly into the stiff fabric until he thought the old yarn would rip. The bun that she had been wearing was beginning to fall apart and he found himself reaching out to stroke her jaw, watching as a deep blush swept across her brown cheeks like summer rain.

 

“Angie, I know that I haven't been really nice lately and I'm sorry.” George said gently and that caused her to stare up at him in either amazement or fragile hope. The emotions threatened to open him up like a cracked egg and he swallowed gruffly, “you don't have to forgive me. I wouldn't expect you to after the way I've been acting for the past few days.”

 

“I don't think you've earned it, especially with how you've behaved but we've been through so much together and I don't want to lose that just because neither of us tried to work it out.” Angelina forced herself into silence, her eyes darting away from him embarrassingly as George began to see just how crowded the common room was.

 

Most of the students were engrossed in their own conversations but George could spot Katie and Alicia watching them surreptitiously from a sofa near the fireplace like two scowling guardian angels. It made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Angelina took a few seconds longer to compose herself, “I was so worried about you earlier that I forgot about how angry I was.” She said with a smile. He ran his thumb along her skin again before letting his hand fall, “it..it didn't seem to matter anymore.”

 

George wanted to hold her but the urge didn't feel right with so many people surrounding them and he opted for shrugging out of his coat instead. The snow and ice had created a large puddle under his feet and he prayed that someone like Neville Longbottom didn't slide to their death in it, “I just needed to get some air.”

 

Fred had bombarded on his solitude like a war hammer and his eyes scanned through the heavy masses of black robes, hunting for some sign of his brother or Lee Jordan. The pair were usually in the middle of some extravagant prank by now but there was no sign that either of them had even stepped foot in the common room.

 

“You were gone a long time,” Angelina murmured worriedly.

 

“There were a lot of things on my mind but I didn't think that I was going to make you panic.” George said softly as Angelina scoffed, her eyes betraying her. He found it stunning that no one else saw just how vulnerable she could be, “I'm all right now.” That was farthest from the truth when he thought of the fierce argument that he had gotten into with his brother but he didn't want to ruin things even more and said honestly, “Angie, I really didn't mean to worry you.”

 

A brief silence fell between them and George was hardly aware of the raucous laughter from the other students or the steady _crack_ of the fireplace. Angelina reached out and took his hand in a warm grip that went all the way down to his toes, “I missed you.” She said tenderly and all of the anger that he had felt towards himself became replaced by blistering need.

 

“I missed you too,” George said softly.

 

Angelina made a half-hearted motion to pull away but George curled his fingers around hers until they were trapped together. Her voice was faint as she replied, “I think I know what made you so upset but I would rather sit and talk about it, I don't want to just focus on how _I_ feel.” She whispered as her cheeks darkened. “Everyone told me that I should just give you a little space until you calmed down because it was obvious that you didn't want to talk to me but I wanted to confront you anyway.”

 

“Were you going to yell at me?” George asked, releasing her.

 

“Most likely,” Angelina replied, shrugging.

 

George cringed. “I can't handle it when you yell at me,”

 

“I know.” Angelina said with only the slightest trace of arrogance.

 

George was tempted to confess everything but felt that he would have to talk to his brother somewhere private if Fred ever decided to speak to him again. He already felt bad for hurting Angelina and he had no intention of making it worse, “I probably would have ended up crying after you were done fussing at me.” His busted lip prevented him from smiling, “I know I've been a prat but you're the one that I've hurt the most and I don't know how I'd even begin to make up for it.” He said sincerely.

 

“Well, Georgie you could start by telling me what was wrong.” Angelina replied after a short moment and he saw that her cheeks were becoming darker with a blush. “I don't like not being able to talk to you and I missed you so much that I thought I was going mad.”

 

George felt a tender ache in his chest at the confession and wondered if she had somehow felt how lost he had been without her. It was a peculiar question that he didn't dare ask and they stared at one another for a few moments, sinking and tumbling before his voice finally found him, “Angie, I'm really sorry about everything, you know that I'm a complete wreck without you.”

 

Angelina smiled bashfully, avoiding his eyes. “It's okay. I can't stay mad at you for long,”

 

“You didn't talk to me for three weeks once!” George reminded, nudging her.

 

Angelina glanced around before whispering hotly. “You tickled me until I peed my pants!”

 

George avoided a swift punch. “I _told_ you not to drink so much pumpkin juice—”

 

The stricken expression on Angelina's face was so funny that George stupidly forgot about the pain in his lip and burst out laughing. His wound had barely had a chance to heal and wasn't surprised when a bit of blood dribbled down his chin like a ghastly wine, “ _Merlin_! You need to do something about that, George.” Angelina's brown skin had paled drastically.

 

“It's not that bad,” George laughed.

 

Angelina had a fear of blood and she turned green as he wiped the blood on his sleeve, which made her fuss at him like he were a two year old. “That was disgusting—don't you _dare_!” she cried when George threatened to wipe some blood on her sleeve, “gross. Why don't you go put a little dittany on it and get into some fresh clothes?”

 

“What do I need fresh clothes for?” George asked curiously.

 

“You're going to catch a cold if you don't change,” Angelina nagged.

 

George eyed her curiously. “Why are you in a hurry for me to change?”

 

Angelina spluttered embarrassingly and George watched her cheeks turn adorably pink, finding it to be the cutest thing. Her hands fluttered nervously in the air for a moment, “It's just that I'd like to talk and uhm...I wanted to tell you earlier that my mum delivered a box of cookies this morning.” George's ears pricked up at this news, “Katie and the others fought over them like a pack of animals but I saved a few for you.” Her blush deepened, “since they're your favorite.”

 

“You didn't have to do that,” George chided.

 

Angelina muttered. “I was going to use them as bait to get you alone,”

 

“In order to do what?” George asked, his filthy mind conjuring sinful images.

 

Angelina spluttered. “N-nothing like _that_ you perv!”

 

George clutched at his chest. “You wound me, Angie.”

 

“Oh, knock it off.” Angelina snapped, punching his arm.

 

“What'd you do with those cookies?” George asked eagerly.

 

Angelina's lips turned up in a smile. “I saved them for you, I'd still like to talk.”

 

George made a complaint that she wouldn't even try to fondle him and Angelina waved him away with a reluctant laugh, commanding him to meet her in the corridor once he cleaned up. It felt a little wrong to think that everything would be all right. He felt a stirring of happiness at the idea of being alone with her in some dark, cozy place but as he dashed up the stairs towards the dormitory, he debated wildly about finally mustering up the courage to kiss her.

 

The feel of her mouth against his would be heavenly but he forced his raging hormones to calm down, it wouldn't be right to go around snogging his brother's date to the Yule Ball. George felt the familiar sting of jealousy in his system but pushed it aside, he craved any moment he could have with Angelina and he was certain that all they would do was talk.

 

Angelina was so shy that he doubted if it would be wise to ask for anything more, which didn't exactly make his fantasies any less frequent. George imagined pulling her close and—“She's going to a dance with Fred and this is the only thing you can think about?” he asked himself in a low whisper. He felt terrible for wanting his own arms around Angelina when it was possible that she didn't even want him that way, “I _really_ must be spoiled.”

 

George brooded over this for a few more minutes but couldn't help but imagine himself in his brother's place, causing his mind to linger on heated scenarios that made him ashamed. “I won't be getting any decent sleep tonight again.” He sighed miserably while slipping into their dorm room. It was empty, though the God awful mess that he and the others had left would have given a neat freak like Percy a heart attack. He impatiently kicked Cauldron Cake wrappers, Lee's smut magazines and Katie's diary out of the way as he headed towards his closet.

 

Angelina was probably already in the corridor and he decided not to put much fuss in his appearance as he tossed his coat on the floor. George rummaged around in his closet for a few minutes before slipping a dark green sweater over his head and frowning as he noticed a large letter _P_ on the front, “Dammit, Percy.” His older brother had packed his clothes once again but had obviously mixed up a few of their things. He wondered how the git was doing for a few minutes as he ran his fingers through his hair and hurriedly headed back downstairs.

 

Percy had taken his new job a little too seriously and he was expecting him to announce his marriage to Mr. Crouch any day now. He had a feeling that his older, stuffy brother wouldn't look very good in a traditional wedding gown. George ruminated on that as the noise of the common room assaulted his ears again and he scanned the crowd (Katie and Alicia glared at him from the sofa) for Angelina but found himself staring at Lee Jordan's sheepish face instead.

 

“What're you looking so nervous for?” George asked curiously.

 

Lee Jordan was one of the funniest people that George had ever met and had always considered him to be part of his family, despite the fact that he was a drama queen. He was dressed in a heavy grey coat, his dread locks concealed beneath a horrible knitted cap that Katie had surprised him with as an early Christmas present. George wanted to talk but Angelina was waiting and he felt dumb for being angry at him earlier, “What is it?” he asked.

 

“Erm, it's nothing.” Lee remarked while avoiding his eyes.

 

“Sure?” George asked, unconvinced.

 

Lee's dark brown skin was dotted with anxious sweat and it was clear that he was hiding something but George stared at him blankly. “Fred and I just got back from Hagrid's. We were trying to get him to let us go into the Forbidden Forest for Acromantula venom,” he said excitedly and George's childish desire to cause trouble was delighted by this. “He didn't fall for our puppy dog eyes but gave us a few strands of unicorn hair as a present, he said it was too dangerous to go into the Forest during the winter because the spiders get extra hungry or something.”

 

George felt a stab of disappointment, there were quite a few potions that the venom could be used for but he wasn't as familiar with the details like his brother. “Where is Fred?” his friend remained silent but it was clear that he wasn't comfortable revealing what he knew. “Lee, if you know about what we fought about, you don't have to be so embarrassed to look at me.”

 

The nasty throbbing in his busted lip was enough evidence to prove how much of an idiot he had been, he wanted to talk to his brother before a large rift formed between them. Percy had already given up on any pretenses that they were close or even remotely friendly towards one another and he didn't want his relationship with his twin to end up so miserable.

 

Lee blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

 

George huffed impatiently. “Didn't Fred tell you about what happened earlier?”

 

“You two fought?” Lee croaked, stunned.

 

“He didn't say anything to you about his split lip?” George questioned, pointing to his own.

 

Lee's jaw dropped and he lowered his voice. “You _punched_ Fred?”

 

George could feel Alicia and Katie glaring at him. “We had an argument and it got ugly,”

 

Lee shook his head as if he couldn't believe it. “Fred told me he busted his lip fighting Slytherins,”

 

George felt his ears burning with shame and it was difficult to understand that he had fell into that level of anger. The harsh words that had been thrown around hadn't sounded like anything that he would say and he could hardly understand the fury that had blazed so out of control but there was still that really ugly part of him that refused to feel sorry. “I was the one who hit him,” he found himself admitting and it felt like a curse.

 

“Are you _serious_?” Lee cried, shocked.

 

“I just wanted to be left alone but Fred came out of nowhere and I know that he just came out there to check on me but we ended up getting into an argument.” George inhaled raggedly, “I punched him without even realizing what I was doing.”

 

“Were you two fighting about _Angie_?” Lee demanded, sounding more baffled than angry.

 

“I was just angry that he asked her to the dance.” George explained wearily.

 

Lee rolled his eyes heavenward. “We _all_ know that but Fred had his reasons for asking her,”

 

George had never considered this. “What do you mean?”

 

“It's his business, he told me not to tell anyone.” Lee replied stubbornly.

 

George felt a sting of jealousy and wondered when his brother had started keeping certain things from him, the one person that had always been there. Fred was allowed to have a completely separate life that had nothing to do with him but he didn't want to lose his closeness with his brother just because he had lost his mind for a few minutes. “If you didn't know that the two of us had fought, why'd you look so nervous when you saw me?”

 

“Because you've been a mean arsehole for _days_!” Lee cried, waving his arms.

 

“I'm sorry about all that,” George said earnestly.

 

Lee waved his apology away with a grin. “It's fine, we've all been there.”

 

George quirked a brow. “You're never upset about anything.”

 

“I get upset all the time but I just don't let anyone see it.” Lee corrected happily.

 

George suspected that he had a few vices that kept him stable. “You're so mysterious,”

 

Lee snorted. “Hardly,”

 

“Could you tell Alicia and Katie not to kill me?” George asked idly, knowing his demise was imminent.

 

“I'll try but Katie's been talking about burying you since yesterday,” Lee warned gravely.

 

George shuddered and found himself rocking back on his heels in an effort to ignore the ugly twisting in his stomach. Lee sniffled before removing his coat and tossing his gloves at Katie's head, grinning widely when the girl howled angrily from the other side of the room, “Thanks for putting up with me, Lee.” He said ruefully after watching Alicia giggling from the sofa. “I'm supposed to meet Angie out in the corridor so I'll have to talk to you later.” His friend tore his twinkling brown eyes from Katie long enough to wince at him.

 

“Good luck, mate.” Lee said bravely.

 

George wondered what he had missed. “What is it?”

 

“It's nothing!” Lee said a little too quickly.

 

George snorted. “I can't spend the rest of the day cuddling you or anything.”

 

Lee wiped an impressive crocodile tear from his eye. “And here I was, hoping....”

 

“Seriously, what's going on?” George asked around a weak smile.

 

Lee hesitated and appeared a tad uncomfortable, as if he were weighing his options on keeping this bit of information to himself. “I didn't want to say anything earlier but Fred was kind of in a weird mood and I figured there was something wrong.” The boy informed with a troubled frown, “He was really quiet on our way back from Hagrid's and I was going to ask what was bothering him but we spotted Angie out in the corridor. He said that he needed to talk to her alone.”

 

“About what?” George asked warily.

 

“I think it's about you.” Lee ventured cautiously.

 

George's heart plummeted. “Why do you say that?”

 

Lee's brown eyes were concerned and he gnawed on his lower lip for several seconds before answering in a tense voice. “Fred has never gone out of his way to spend much time with Angie alone, I know that he cares about her but everyone figured out a long time ago that you were her favorite.” George wanted to deny this but his friend didn't even bother waiting for an excuse, “when we were headed towards the Fat Lady's portrait, we spotted Angie waiting out in the corridor and Fred just got this weird look on his face.”

 

“What kind of weird look?” George asked, becoming increasingly uneasy.

 

“I don't know...like he was jealous or something but I heard him mention you before I climbed through the portrait hole.” Lee informed, appearing baffled.

 

George nodded even though he felt nauseous before punching his worried friend lightly on the shoulder and heading as calmly as possible towards the portrait hole. The Fat Lady huffed indignantly when he roughly yanked the door open and stumbled into the corridor, “...sorry about all this.” Fred was saying as he stood a few feet away with Angelina, who looked simply enraged. He was unaware that he had made any noise but they turned towards him in surprise, Angelina's eyes narrowing until he wanted to slither back into his mother's womb.

 

Fred glanced between them with a noticeable wince but said nothing, the air becoming nearly toxic with the bombardment of emotions and lies. George briefly contemplated his chances of making a hasty run for safety but Angelina's voice rang out like icy winter air, “George Fabian don't you _dare_ move an inch from that spot.” His entire body froze obediently. There was no point in running when she knew the truth, “we need to talk.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this! It's a part of my Georgelina Madness collection!


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